


Crying For Help

by ToTheStarsWriting



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sentinels and Guides Are Known, Bonding, Guide Alec, Guide Powers, Guide discrimination, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Sentinel Magnus, Sentinel/Guide Bonding, Spirit Animals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:01:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23484253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToTheStarsWriting/pseuds/ToTheStarsWriting
Summary: Alec has resigned himself to the fact that he wasn't ever going to find himself a Sentinel. He's been online for twice as long as most Guides and yet, he still hasn't found the one for him, even with the Clave sending Sentinel after Sentinel to the Institute in the hopes of bonding him to someone of their choosing.Magnus had given up on bonding a long time ago. He'd had a Guide once, and the pain he went through when he lost her was something he swore he'd never get over. He shut down his inner Sentinel and swore that no one was going to get close to him. Not ever again.Until one night something happens, and fate takes things into her own hands.
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 156
Kudos: 1099
Collections: Best Malec stories, Suggested Good Reads





	1. Chapter 1

Growing up as one of the few Guides in an Institute that carried a high percentage of Sentinels was something that Alec Lightwood hadn’t ever thought to question. He’d been taught about Sentinels and Guides just like any other person, and so he’d known at least slightly what to expect when his abilities came online, as the term went, when he was just six years old.

That was the first day that Alec met Pax, his spirit animal. A rather protective gorilla who would often come sit with Alec when he was alone and keep him company as he tried to learn to build mental shields to keep himself from the pain of the world around him. Empathy was a Guide trait. One that came in varying degrees of strength, depending on the Guide. Alec’s had come in hard, and strong, and only gotten stronger with time. Learning how to make mental shields had been a matter of self-preservation. If he hadn’t, he knew he would’ve gone mad a long, long time ago.

Alec didn’t learn until later just how unique his story was. He didn’t know that he was the youngest Shadowhunter to ever present.

By the time he was fifteen, he was one of the top-ranking Guides of the New York pack, and his potential for running the New York Institute had become almost a certainty. There were quite a few in the Clave who believed that whatever Sentinel Alec bonded with would be the one to truly take over. But Alec, well, he had other plans. He didn’t care how many Sentinels the Clave sent his way. There was no way in hell he was going to bond to someone who was only going to seek to control him.

“You were meant to be a Sentinel,” his mother told him once, not long after he’d presented. “But if you’re going to be a Guide, then we’re going to ensure you have the best training possible.”

Isabelle had been the one to take Alec aside later and hug him, telling him fiercely to “Stay strong, Alec. I don’t care what those idiot trainers say. Things are different now. You don’t have to be a slave to anyone – especially not your Sentinel.”

It wasn’t that long ago that Guides _had_ been slaves to their Sentinels. When they’d been their _property_. The Center – as the Sentinel-Guide group was known as, their buildings set up in every major city all around the world – were supposed to be set up to help Sentinels and Guides, to connect them with one another and provide them with the kind of support others couldn’t. Only, instead they’d offered all the support and help to Sentinels, while Guides were treated like property. _Pets._

It’d barely been a decade since those laws had changed. Since Guides had earned the right to be people, too, in the eyes of the law.

That didn’t mean that everyone agreed with that change. Robert certainly hadn’t. What training he’d sent Alec off to was something that had left scars the young Guide would never fully heal from.

Still, that training taught him something, and Alec used it when he got back home. He learned how to protect himself. He learned how to strengthen his shields, and how to protect himself when he couldn’t. He learned how to anchor himself on his sister, the only Sentinel in their family. And when someone tried to take him to heel, or _put him in his place,_ they quickly learned that neither Lightwood sibling was one to mess with.

By the time Alec reached adulthood, bonding was the furthest thing from his mind. There was too much else he had going on to even worry about something that, most of the time, he wasn’t really convinced was going to happen. The Clave had sent Sentinels to him practically since the start, and not a one of them seemed to match, no matter how long they stayed around.

And stay they often did. The New York Institute had the highest collection of Sentinels, Guides, and bonded Pairs out of any other Institute.

“They’re drawn to you,” sixteen-year-old Isabelle told him once, as the two of them were curled up on the couch in what Alec had claimed as his office. He wasn’t _officially_ given an office yet at that age—wouldn’t be until later. When his parents wanted him to do things, he was to come in their office and do it or take it to his room. But Alec had secretly claimed this space and made it his own. Here he could work privately or step away from everyone else and relax a little or meet with one of the various Guides around here when they had a problem.

It wasn’t as fancy as the Head’s office. However, it had a little balcony, which Alec adored, and it was bigger, meaning Alec was free to make an area like this where he and Isabelle could put a couch and some chairs, and relax together away from prying eyes. Here, the two could cuddle without risking anyone seeing them.

Sitting with his feet up on the coffee table, and Isabelle’s head in his lap, allowed Alec to look down at his sister and give her a dry look.

Isabelle grinned up at him. “I’m serious! You’re a strong, badass Guide, Alec. You don’t take Sentinel shit, and you don’t let anyone try and treat you like you’re less than them. Not since your early training…” she cut off at the dark look that crossed Alec’s face. Expression softening, Isabelle brought her hand up and pressed it against his stomach, rubbing lightly at his shirt. “You’re an amazing Guide, Alec. You’re the Alpha Guide for this Institute. People recognize that. Maybe they come here for other reasons, but they stay because of _you_.”

“I’m not anything special,” Alec said, the protest rising almost instantly. This wasn’t the first time they’d had this argument, really. “Half the people out there don’t even like me, Izzy.”

“Well, no shit. Mom and Dad might still technically run this place, but we all know it’s yours, and you’re a bit of a hardass, big brother. But you’re an equal opportunity one. You treat everyone the same – Sentinel, Guide, or just plain Shadowhunter. You take care of us. _That’s_ why they stay.”

There wasn’t really anything Alec could say to that. So he’d settled for playing with Isabelle’s hair again and steering their conversation onto a safer topic. Namely his parabatai’s recent exploits and Alec’s attempts to cover for him.

The fact that Alec had a parabatai at all was something of an anomaly. The parabatai bond was supposed to be almost like the angelic version of a Sentinel and Guide bond. It was an intimate thing that tied to people together down to their very souls. Their minds weren’t connected the way a Pairs was, but their souls were, and the bond allowed them to share strength and emotions.

It was unheard of for a Sentinel or Guide to have a parabatai. Alec had only been able to find one record of it in a very old book. A Pair of Sentinel parabatai, one of whom was also bonded to a Guide.

Alec used that account, and the lack of laws against it, to push through his bond with Jace. They weren’t going to let anyone stop them from becoming parabatai. If they had to do it alone, they would.

Not once had Alec regretted his choice. It had its benefits, too. While Jace wasn’t able to shield Alec the way a Sentinel would, he could help steady him sometimes. Give him something to ground himself on when his walls were down, and emotions were battering at him. Sometimes Alec thought that Jace was probably the only reason Alec had made it this far without going insane.

He never really thought what it would mean for him to have a parabatai bond if he ever found a Sentinel. To Alec, the idea that he’d someone to fill that empty place inside him was something he’d stopped thinking about.

At least, he had, right up until the moment everything changed with the arrival of rather annoying little redhead.


	2. Chapter 2

It’d been a long time since Alec had left the Institute for anything that wasn’t a hunt or for something related to hunting down Valentine. Or, at least, that was what it felt like. With the whole of the Shadow world at war everything had become about work, hunting down demons, chasing down leads, trying to stop Circle members from their attacks. Alec felt like he’d been in almost nonstop motion since the day he’d come back from a last-minute meeting in Idris to find Clary Fairchild in his institute, running around unchecked in a desperate search for her mother and the Mortal Cup.

The introduction of Clary to their lives had definitely stirred up the status quo for Alec and his family. She was young, impetuous, hellbent on saving her mother no matter the cost—something that Alec might not enjoy having to deal with but could respect—and so convinced she knew what was best.

Was it any wonder Jace fell for her? The thought often made Alec want to snort to himself. It was like she’d been made for his brother.

Finding out that Clary was Valentine’s daughter had been a hell of a shock. Jocelyn had run from her husband all those years ago, taking the Mortal Cup into hiding with her, and she’d kept them hidden, kept them secret, raising Clary up as a mundane until her eighteenth birthday. The morning of her birthday her mother had sat her down and told her the truth of who she was and where she came from, returning memories she’d kept stored away with a warlock’s help. Clary had run, furious and hurt. When she’d returned, she’d found her home ripped apart and her mother gone. Clary had come to the only place her mother had told her might be safe: the New York Institute.

While Alec had been meeting with various Alpha Guides in Idris, his brother and sister had been running around to the Silent Brothers, causing trouble with the local wolf-pack, and dealing business with the High Warlock of Brooklyn. It’d earned them back Clary’s memories, sure, but it’d left a swath of chaos in their wake that Alec had spent _weeks_ cleaning up and trying to excuse to the Clave. The only thing that had saved him from being in trouble for it was that he hadn’t been around when it all happened.

In the two months since then they’d found no signs of Jocelyn Fairchild or the Mortal Cup. Alec had teams dedicated to finding them both, yet nothing had turned up.

He’d worked on getting Clary trained as a proper Shadowhunter in the meantime. It wasn’t easy; she was young and stubborn, sure that she was invincible. The only thing that kept Alec from wanting to strangle her for her cockiness sometimes was Jace’s blatant affection for her, something that Alec could feel in their parabatai bond, and the insecurity and fear that Alec could feel bubbling in Clary bubbling just underneath the surface.

The fact that he _could_ feel it was something that Alec didn’t mention to her. While it was common knowledge around the Institute what Alec’s status was, it wasn’t like it was something people went around talking about, and Alec wasn’t entirely sure if anyone had ever mentioned it to Clary. Jace wouldn’t have said anything, and neither would Isabelle, despite Isabelle’s openness in talking about her own status.

It wasn’t that Alec was ashamed of himself. It was just that it was kind of nice to have someone who looked at him and didn’t see anything but Alec Lightwood, big brother to Jace and Isabelle, and Head of the New York Institute. Sure, she also saw him as a coldhearted bastard a lot of the time, or an emotionless drone the rest, but Alec could take that. Whatever problems she had with him, they had absolutely nothing to do with him being a Guide.

Besides, Alec had seen how mundanes treated Guides. They were slower to change that opinion than Shadowhunters were. Even now with new laws in place to protect them, many Guides were still treated like property. Like they were less than anyone and everything else. Alec couldn’t help but think that Shadowhunters really weren’t that better, they just chose a different group to oppress. And whereas quite a few Shadowhunters had no qualms in killing Downworlders, at least mundanes allowed Guides to live, even if it was only because they were useful. They kept them alive; they just treated them like dirt.

Until Alec could be sure Clary wasn’t going to be like that, he’d be keeping his status to himself.

That meant that Alec was free to scowl at her when she and Jace came to drag him out of the Institute to go out for lunch without worrying that any emotion he showed was going to be blamed on him being an _over-emotional Guide_.

Jace wasn’t the least bit disturbed by Alec’s attitude. “C’mon, Alec. The Institute’s not gonna fall apart if you go out for a few hours. It’s just lunch.”

“Everyone needs to eat,” Clary chimed in, practically beaming at him.

 _Oh, you little shit_. Alec glared at Jace, who grinned unrepentantly. They both knew what Jace was doing here. As little as Alec liked Clary most of the time, even he had to admit that she was a normally happy person, and when she was in a good mood it was hard not to feel himself perking up a little. Clary seemed to feel things stronger than most people did. Her emotions were never small. They were always larger-than-life. That meant that—despite Alec’s strong mental shields—he felt her emotions a whole lot easier than he felt most.

There was no way he was going to be able to say no in the face of all her ridiculous cheeriness. That didn’t mean he couldn’t _try_ though. “I’ve got a phone conference with the Inquisitor in three hours.”

“We’ll have you back in time,” Jace promised quickly.

That was how Alec found himself getting dragged out by his parabatai and the newest menace in his life. Finding Isabelle outside the Institute waiting for them didn’t surprise Alec. He just lifted his eyebrows at her when she grinned his way. “I see they dragged you out of your office. About time, Alec. You spend way too much time in there.”

Alec rolled his eyes, though he didn’t stop her when Isabelle stepped up to him and curled her hand through his arm. The two of them touched far more than most people might’ve considered appropriate for anyone, let alone siblings, but it was a part of who they were. Even though they weren’t bonded to one another, Isabelle still used Alec to help ground her, to help pull her from zones, and Alec used Isabelle to help center him and block out other emotions so he could strengthen his mental shields.

“I leave my office,” Alec felt compelled to point out. Everyone was acting like he never got out of there!

Tilting her head, Isabelle shot him an amused, almost pitying look. “Patrols don’t count, big brother.” She reached up with her free hand to pat at his bicep. “You need to get out in the sunshine once in a while. You’re starting to look like a ghost.”

A snort slipped out before Alec could even think about stopping it. “Like you’ve got any room to talk.” When she just grinned at him, her happiness bubbling against his shields, there was no way that Alec could stop his own smile, small though it may have been. He bumped his arm against hers, enjoying the way she bumped him right back. It’d been way too long since they had a chance to hang out for something outside of the job. Maybe this was a good idea.

Clary, Jace, and Isabelle chatted idly as they walked to wherever it was they were going. Alec let himself get caught up in the feel of them, and the easy emotions of those around them, letting it drain away some of his tension little by little.

They’d been walking for almost fifteen minutes when Alec finally took notice of the fact that they weren’t heading toward the Downworlder part of town. Usually that was where they went. It was just easier for them all if they went somewhere where people knew about the Shadow world. “Where are we going?” he asked.

“There’s a cool amazing diner Simon and I love,” Clary said, smiling over her shoulder at Alec. She and Jace were right in front of them, wrapped around one another. “Today’s the first day of Fall, which means they bring out all their Fall treats. We never miss those!”

Alec came to a stop right in the middle of the sidewalk. He didn’t care if they attracted attention. He was too busy glaring at the group in front of him. “We’re going to a mundane place?”

His reaction earned him an eye roll from Jace, and a furrowed look from Clary. “Relax, Alec. I think you’ll survive being around mundanes for a little while. It’s not contagious,” Jace said teasingly. There was laughter in his tone that only made Alec scowl more. Grinning, Jace used his arm around Clary’s waist to tug her forward to get them moving again.

Isabelle gave Alec’s arm a gentle squeeze. “It’ll be fine,” she murmured in a soft voice pitched for just him to hear. She, better than anyone else, knew Alec’s worries. The way she held on to him let him know that she wasn’t going to leave him alone. She’d stay by his side and look out for him the way she always did when they went out in public.

The fact that it was necessary was something that Alec hated.

She understood, though, in ways that the others didn’t, or couldn’t. Alec didn’t have the words to describe to Jace just what it was like to be a Guide in the mundane world. He thought Shadowhunters were bad? He had no idea. Alec had seen the way that mundanes treated Sentinels and Guides. He’d _experienced_ it.

Maybe it’d gotten better these past years. Alec knew that there were new laws in place to protect Guides. They were getting treated like people again, not like property. But it was a slow going process. Hell, Alec knew there were still plenty of places that still hadn’t caught up with the newer laws, even here in New York. Things were better, but they weren’t _great_ , and that was the last thing Alec wanted to deal with today.

Unconsciously he began to hunch himself down to try and make himself look smaller. As soon as Alec realized he was doing it, he felt his stomach twist with the familiar self-loathing, yet he didn’t stop. Five seconds in, the idea that he was going to be seen somewhere as a Guide and he was falling back on the kind of training that he wanted nothing more than to forget. Training he’d busted his _ass_ to move past.

He felt Isabelle tense and it only served to make Alec draw in even further. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of her frown. She clearly wasn’t happy with his reaction. Though Alec had no idea what she’d thought might happen.

Alec hated this reminder of just how close those old feelings sat to the surface. When he walked into the diner, it took effort to keep his head up. To keep from ducking down and falling back so that he’d be a step behind Isabelle, eyes on the ground and body tense.

Even if he’d tried, the hand Isabelle kept on his arm prevented Alec from moving beyond her side. He avoided looking over at her. There was no doubt in Alec’s mind that Isabelle had picked up on his change in mood. While she might not be able to feel Alec’s emotions the way that he could feel hers—she was worried, a bit angry, sad, and so, so protective—she was still able to chart the changes in his mood by his heartbeat, the tension in his muscles, his body language, even his scent.

“Alec.” Isabelle’s voice was soft, heavy with the concern he could feel from her. She drew him closer to her side. The need to protect him when he was ‘vulnerable’ likely demanding that she keep him close. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Why don’t we leave them to it, and you and I can go over to that little burger joint you like?”

Even as she offered, Alec shook his head. He didn’t want to have to deal with the mocking comments he’d get if they left. Alec knew Jace wouldn’t let him hear the end of it. He’d tease Alec for being so prejudiced against mundanes that he couldn’t even handle spending an hour around them to eat lunch. “It’s fine, Iz. We’re already here. Let’s just eat.”

Jace and Clary were already seated at a table in the back corner. When Isabelle and Alec joined them, it didn’t surprise Alec to watch his sister kick at Jace’s chair. He’d chosen the chairs that were toward the back corner of the room, while Clary was sitting with her back to the rest of the diner, the two of them across the table from one another. That left one chair beside Jace, and one beside Clary, neither of which Isabelle was taking. She gave their brother a firm look. “Go sit by Clary.”

“What?” Jace looked up at her with _what the fuck_ written all over his face.

“Go sit by Clary,” Isabelle repeated firmly.

There was a second where Alec wasn’t sure that Jace would do it. But he must’ve recognized the same thing in her tone that Alec had; she wasn’t going to change her mind on this. If Jace didn’t move, it was likely she’d dump him out of the chair and move him herself.

With only a few grumbles, Jace got up and switched sides, taking the chair beside Clary even if he was clearly uncomfortable with his back to the room, a trait most Shadowhunters shared. “Happy now?” he grumbled.

Isabelle beamed brightly. “Ecstatic.”

It was no surprise for Alec to find himself being hustled into the seat Jace had just vacated. Isabelle’s protective instincts were up. Even if Alec wasn’t _her_ Guide, the instinct to protect _any_ Guide was usually pretty strong in most Sentinels. _Good_ Sentinels. Right now those instincts were telling Isabelle to get Alec in a protected place where she’d easily be able to keep him safe from any threat.

When she sat down Alec reached out to brush his fingers against the side of her leg. The touch was under the table, out of view of anyone else. It was a silent _I’m okay_ that he hoped would help her relax.

Clary looked like she wanted to question what had just happened. Her eyes were confused as she looked back and forth between Alec and Isabelle. But, before she could ask, Isabelle spoke up first, her bright smile back in place. “So, you said these guys make Fall treats – what do you recommend? I love all the pumpkin flavored things mundanes come out with, and I know Alec likes pretty much anything labeled _holiday spice_.”

“Let’s try and tone down the whole ‘mundane’ talk,” Clary said, lips quirking a little in response to Isabelle’s smile. Most people couldn’t resist smiling back when Isabelle smiled at them.

As the two girls dropped down into a debate of different treats they should try, Jace and Alec caught eyes across the table. There was a question in Jace’s eyes. While Clary might’ve been distracted, which was likely Isabelle’s intention, Jace hadn’t been. The look in his eyes, the tilt to his head, all asked Alec if everything was all right. Alec shrugged one shoulder, yet he gave Jace a half-smile in return, hoping to keep his parabatai from worrying too much.

* * *

Despite Alec’s worries their lunch break turned out to be a whole lot better than he’d expected. Whether it was because he had Isabelle protectively guarding him so that he wouldn’t have to interact with anyone, even the waitress—to Clary’s clear surprise and Alec’s resigned amusement, Isabelle ordered for Alec—or people here were just better behaved than Alec had expected them to be, no one bothered them.

Alec got to enjoy his time with his siblings and Clary, _plus_ a really amazing holiday spice latte and one of his favorite sandwiches, which he had no idea how Isabelle had convinced the kitchen to make. A turkey, cranberry, and brie sandwich that he usually only ever got to have with Thanksgiving leftovers.

Clary had eyed his sandwich curiously more than once. It was probably a bit petty on Alec’s part to deliberately enjoy the last few bites while smirking at her.

He hadn’t expected to enjoy himself quite so much. Some of the tension that Alec had felt building in him for the past few days had finally gone down to a manageable level. Even his headache had started to fade away. Alec couldn’t remember the last time he’d been headache free. Lately it seemed like there was always one pulsing at his temples or behind his eyes. Now it was just a faint, dull ache, one that was easily ignored.

As a silent sort of ‘thank you’ to them dragging him out here, Alec nudged his way forward when they went up to the register, pulling out his wallet as he went. “I’ve got this.”

“Oh no, Alec, you don’t have to do that,” Clary protested almost immediately. “We’re the ones that dragged you away from work. We were supposed to pay.”

The sheer honesty in her words was one of the reasons that Alec couldn’t bring himself to fully dislike Clary. While she might drive him insane on an almost daily basis, and she had a whole hell of a lot to learn still about what it meant to be a Shadowhunter despite what she seemed to believe, she was just honestly _nice_ most of the time.

Despite himself, Alec’s expression softened just the slightest bit. “Bit of advice, Fray: don’t ever turn down a free meal.”

He didn’t give her any further chance to protest. With the cash he had on hand, Alec paid for the meal, slipping his change into the tip jar when the woman handed it back to him. She beamed brightly at that. “You guys have a good day and come back soon!”

As they made their way out of the diner, Isabelle slipped her hand into the crook of his arm again. He found her beaming up at him when he looked down. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

He opened his mouth to tell her that, no, it wasn’t, when the world seemed to decide to prove them both wrong. Alec was barely out the door when someone barreled right into him. He crashed sideways into Isabelle, who had to let go of Alec’s arm to catch herself against the wall so she wouldn’t topple down. Alec just barely managed to keep his footing.

He spun, a glare already on his face, to see who the hell had run into him. There was a big, burly man there who was just radiating angry Sentinel, fitting pretty much every stereotype for bad Sentinels out there. There was a small part of Alec that wanted to quiver, just a little, at seeing someone so like the very people responsible for some of his worst nightmares. But Alec wasn’t a little boy anymore, and he wasn’t going to let fear win. Glaring harder, he snapped out a sharp: “Watch where you’re going!”

The guy’s own scowl deepened. “You should watch your mouth, before someone decides to do it for you.” His eyes traveled back to Isabelle, who had straightened up and was letting out a low, barely audible growl. “I don’t know what the hell kind of training he’s had, but I suggest you send him back for more.”

“And _I_ suggest you get away from him – now.”

The sharpness of Isabelle’s voice made her threat clear. Beside her, Clary was watching her with surprise, though Jace was glaring just as sharply at the stranger.

It was Alec who kept his calm. He moved toward Isabelle, just enough to put himself between the two Sentinels in the hopes of preventing any kind of fight from breaking out. That was the last thing they needed. Alec didn’t want to have to deal with whatever might happen when Isabelle kicked this Sentinel’s ass. If the DSGA—Department of Sentinel and Guide Affairs—showed up, well…it was enough to make Alec shudder.

He tried to keep that worry from his voice as he calmly sought to talk his sister down. “Calm down, Izzy. He’s not worth your time. Let’s just ignore him and get out of here.”

Unfortunately, things didn’t seem to be going Alec’s way today, and though he might’ve been able to talk Isabelle down his words only served to piss the other guy off. “You always let him boss you around?” the asshole asked snidely. A quick look showed Alec this guy was way too pleased with the idea of causing trouble. “You one of them hippies who are all about Guide-rights and bullshit like that?” Then, in a move so unexpected it actually stunned Alec, the guy reached out and caught hold of Alec’s arm in a tight grip. He used it to drag Alec in close so that they were face to face as the guy leered at him. “Guide like you needs a real Sentinel to take charge, show you who’s boss…”

That was as far as he got. Alec twisted his arm up and around, drawing the man’s arm tight, and then snapped his head forward. When the Sentinel roared in pain, jerking back instinctively to reach up and cover his nose, Alec let his own arm slide until he was gripping the same hand that had been holding him.

Within seconds the Sentinel was against the wall, nose bleeding, and Alec had the guy’s arm shoved up his back high enough there was no choice but to stay still or risk breaking it.

Alec planted his free hand against the wall to brace himself while leaning in. He brought his face in close, eyebrows furrowed down and a tightness in his eyes that was enough to make plenty of strong Shadowhunters think twice about their choices. This guy wasn’t anywhere near as tough. Cheek pressed into the wall, he stared at Alec’s furious face, not moving an inch when Alec snarled at him. “I don’t care who you think you are. Guides have rights, just the same as any human being, and that means that we’ve got the right not to let you put your hands on us. Maybe next time you think about touching someone without permission, you’ll remember a Guide is just as capable of kicking your ass as anyone else is.”

With one last, hard squeeze of the guy’s wrist—a clear and open threat—Alec let go of him and backed away.

One look at the trio waiting for him and Alec felt his stomach sink. Isabelle was on the edge of feral; nothing got her there quicker than a threat against her family. Jace was tense as well, glaring at the asshole behind Alec as if daring him to try anything. But Clary… Clary was staring at Alec like she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.

“You’re a _Guide_?” Clary asked incredulously.

There was no way Alec could keep himself from stiffening at her tone. He met her eyes with as calm a look as he could muster. “Yes.”

“But – you’re not wearing a collar!”

Every ounce of goodwill that Alec had gained for Clary through this lunch vanished with those words. He heard Isabelle snarl beside him. A quickly thrown out hand kept her from doing anything, though. All it took was his hand on her arm, and an outpouring of calming emotions, and she stayed at his side. She was practically vibrating with the urge to _protect_ , but she stayed there.

“No, I’m not,” Alec said flatly. “And now’s not the time to discuss it. We need to get out of here before DSGA agents show up, or that guy decides he’s less scared of me than he actually is.”

Jace, who was still glaring over Alec’s shoulder, growled out “I’d like to see him try.”

They didn’t have time for that. Despite the slight shakiness that Alec felt—standing up to a Sentinel like that was never easy, especially when you had to touch them and feel what they were feeling—he needed to get his siblings out of here before anything more happened. With that in mind, he began moving forward, knowing that Isabelle would follow him automatically right now. “Let’s just go.”

Thankfully, Clary tugged Jace along which got him to actually follow as Alec led Isabelle away from the crowd that had gathered. All they needed was to get to an alley where they wouldn’t be seen and they’d be able to activate the necessary runes to hide them from the mundanes. From there, getting home would be easy.

Even if Alec really wasn’t looking forward to the conversation that was going to be waiting for him there.


	3. Chapter 3

Getting back to the Institute had done nothing for Alec’s headache. As he’d told Jace before they’d left, he had a phone conference with the Inquisitor scheduled, and talking with that woman wasn’t exactly a recipe for relaxation. While she recognized Alec’s strengths and his ability to lead an Institute, she wasn’t fond of his ideals. When he’d first reached out to the Clave with the idea of trying to improve relations between Shadowhunters and the Downworld, no one had been too happy about it. But Alec wasn’t afraid to push. This was _important_. It was something he’d been thinking of for years. Ever since he’d first come back home.

What Alec wanted to do was create a council that was made up of one to two representatives from group, Shadowhunters and Downworlders alike. They had a much better chance of being able to figure things out together than they did apart.

Unfortunately, getting the Clave to agree to it wasn’t going all that well. What had started as a conference call had turned into an almost two-hour lecture that ended with yet another Clave envoy being sent out. Alec knew well enough how to read between the lines. He’d been this route with the Clave so many times already. Every time he did something they didn’t like, every time someone stepped out of line, Alec had to answer for it. They’d send someone out to evaluate him. Another Clave representative who believed that Guides were overly-emotional and unsuited for leadership roles, or a Sentinel they hoped he would bond with who would be able to step in and take over.

Alec put his elbows on his desk and rubbed at his temples. He’d had a hard enough time keeping the Clave from finding out about all the stupid unsanctioned missions his siblings and Clary had gone on. If an envoy was going to be here, he needed to find a way to make sure that those three didn’t do anything to draw attention to themselves. They’d already had to deal with one envoy. They’d just gotten lucky that Lydia Branwell had just enough Guide-potential—though she wasn’t online—to be sympathetic to some of what Alec said.

This new guy, Aldertree, was an unknown. Alec had no idea what the man was like or what he was going to try and do. They all needed to be on their best behavior for the duration of his visit.

Now he just had to figure out how to convince his siblings of that. And Clary.

Alec’s headache gave an extra hard pulse. Slamming his eyes shut, he fought back a groan. He really, really didn’t want to go and talk to Clary right now. Or anyone else, really. But the Inquisitor hadn’t been patient. Alec had a feeling she’d already been planning this ahead of time. Victor Aldertree was due to arrive in the next couple hours, leaving Alec with little time to get himself settled or to get his Institute in order. Which meant he needed to make every minute count.

Ignoring his headache, Alec pushed up from his desk and set out to find his siblings and a few other important key people.

Luckily for him, he came across the first person he needed the instant he walked into the Ops Room. “Underhill.”

Andrew Underhill, an unbonded Sentinel and Alec’s head of security, turned away from the monitor he was looking at, moving immediately into an _at attention_ pose when he saw Alec striding toward him. “Sir.”

“We’ve got an incoming visitor sometime within the next few hours,” Alec said. He didn’t bother lowering his voice to keep his words private. In a building full of Sentinels the idea of privacy was one that you had to let go of pretty quickly. They couldn’t always choose what they overheard or sensed or anything like that. There were ways to block it all, sure. Wards that could be put up to prevent anyone from hearing inside a certain space. Or even white noise generators to stop anyone from listening. But those were typically only done for offices. Not even bedrooms were warded like that. Shadowhunters were a warrior people that lived in almost barracks like settings. Privacy was something that was rare.

He didn’t have to say anything more to make Andrew understand what he meant. Though the Sentinel grimaced, he straightened himself up a little more as well. “I’ll get the clearance pushed through and start making preparations to let the security team know.”

“Good. His name is Victor Aldertree, and I’m not sure how long he’s going to be here. Would you mind seeing about getting someone to prep a room for him?”

“Of course.” Then, because Andrew was one of the few people in here that Alec thought might edge more toward _friend_ than just _subordinate_ sometimes, the man gave a half smile and offered: “Want me to send your siblings to your office?”

A faint smile ghosted over Alec’s lips. “No, that’s all right. Thanks, though.”

“Good luck.”

Andrew’s parting words had Alec wanting to sigh. He had a feeling he was going to need all the luck he could get. Not only in keeping his siblings and Clary under control during this visit, but in avoiding the conversation he just knew Clary was going to want to have. He could still hear the shock in her voice. _But you’re not wearing a collar!_ That right there told him clearer than words what kind of upbringing she’d had. Maybe she wasn’t the type to subjugate Guides—he hadn’t seen any signs of that—but she still carried the latent prejudice that so many did.

 _Not that we’re any better_ , Alec reminded himself as he headed out of the Ops Center and down toward the training rooms where he knew his siblings should be. _Shadowhunters aren’t exactly innocent when it comes to prejudices._

It was no surprise that he heard his siblings before he saw them. Nor should it have been a surprise what they were talking about. But it was still kind of like a kick to the gut when Alec got close enough to hear Clary’s voice and understand what it was she was saying. “…don’t really get it,” he heard her say, the confusion he heard in her voice was strong enough that he could feel it even out in the hallway. Though that might’ve had something to do with his shit shields at the moment and not the strength of her feelings. “If I had to peg Alec for something, it’d be a Sentinel, not a _Guide_.”

Alec had heard those words countless times before. He knew he looked more like a Sentinel than a Guide. Knew that he didn’t fit any image of the _perfect Guide_. Yet it never stopped stinging each time.

Just because he didn’t want to be tied down to someone and treated like shit didn’t mean that he didn’t feel the need for a Sentinel just like every other Guide out there. He had that spot inside that felt empty. A place where there should be something—someone—filling it. Sometimes when he was alone in his bedroom or in his office, having one of his darker moments, he’d wonder if he was ever going to get that emptiness filled.

Alec tried to push down the hurt he felt at Clary’s words as he walked into the training room. One look at his two siblings told him that he hadn’t done a good job.

For the moment he did his best to ignore them and their concern. His head was pounding, his shields were in terrible condition, and all he wanted was to go curl up in the dark somewhere and ride this all out. But there was just too much going on right now for those kinds of luxuries.

With all that in mind, Alec spoke quickly, not giving anyone a chance to say anything. Not even when Clary spun around and he could clearly feel her worry, regret, and discomfort. Alec kept his shoulders back and his chin up as he let them know what was going on. “I just got off the phone with the Inquisitor. We’ve got another envoy coming – Victor Aldertree. He’s going to be here within the next couple of hours, so I wanted to make sure that everyone was aware and on their _best behavior_.” At that last part, Alec fixed a stern look on Jace and Clary, his two worst troublemakers. “No random missions, no special things that have to happen _right now_. We’re on thin ice with the Clave right now, so I need you not to give them any of the leverage they’re looking for.”

“Yeah, of course,” Jace said instantly. He sounded like he meant it, too.

Isabelle smirked at them, one hand on her hip and her whip coiled loosely in her other hand. “Don’t worry, big brother. I’ll keep them too busy to think about causing trouble.”

There were immediate protests from both Jace and Clary that had Isabelle’s smirk growing into a dangerous grin that promised so much trouble. Alec couldn’t help but huff out a soft breath that was almost a laugh. “Good,” he said, cutting into the protests. “I’ve already got Underhill prepping the security team. He’ll take care of warning the other Sentinels about someone new coming into our territory. I’m going to go to my office and start getting what I can ready. Try not to call for me unless someone’s dead or dying.”

At least that was the plan. Of course, with a day like today Alec really should’ve figured nothing would go according to plan.

“Looks like your timetable got moved up,” Isabelle said suddenly. She grimaced, offering him a sympathetic look.

 _No._ Alec stared at Isabelle in shock. There was no way she could mean what he thought she meant. “He’s already here?”

The apologetic look she gave him was enough of an answer. Still, Isabelle nodded. “Just showed up. It sounds like Underhill’s greeting him, so you don’t have to worry about him getting in past security.” Her expression shifted, darkening into a barely controlled anger. “He’s a _Sentinel_ ,” she hissed out.

Alec’s shock hit even harder. Yet even as he was cursing in his head, he was already moving, spinning on his heel and hurrying out of the training room. He wasn’t surprised to find that Isabelle and the others were coming with him. Despite him having just warned them to stay away, there was no way Isabelle was going to let Alec go out there with a new Sentinel in-house. _Especially_ not after a day like today.

The whole way out there Alec was running through all the changes he was going to need to make in his plans as well as cursing the Inquisitor for not letting him know she was sending a Sentinel. Alec hadn’t even had a chance to look the guy up to find out for himself, either! These things needed to be planned for! Granted, Shadowhunters were different than mundanes in that they couldn’t afford to get as territorial. But still, it was protocol to warn an active Pride if at all possible if they were sending in a new Sentinel. That way there was less risk of any territoriality issues or anything like that.

Even before Alec reached the Ops Center he could feel the turmoil waiting for him. Actually walking into the room was like a punch to the temples, or a wrecking crew coming straight for his mental shields.

Fear, worry, annoyance, protectiveness, and aggression were all strong in the air. The Ops Center was full of quite a few Sentinels, all of whom were glaring right at the strange new man standing calmly in the middle of the room looking for all the world as if he owned the place. The guy was shorter than Alec, with heavily tanned skin and dark hair, and he was dressed impeccably. He also seemed to be looking down his nose at all of them.

Andrew was by his side. The control he was showing was impressive, and Alec made a mental note to compliment him on it later.

He also took note of every single Guide in there. He’d have to meet up with them later and make sure they had the chance to meditate or train or whatever it was they needed to do to deal with this kind of emotional overflow. If he was having a problem standing up underneath it, he knew his people would be, too.

It took every ounce of skill Alec had to force his shaky walls to stay up despite the pounding in his head, and to draw himself up as well. Shoulders back, head up, he marched into the room with as much command as he could muster. “What’s going on here?” he demanded.

All at once the room went quiet. Everyone watched as Alec strode straight for Victor. Bodies parted to make room for him, until Alec came to a stop just a few feet away from the man. He didn’t try to fight it when Andrew shifted his stance to place himself at a better angle to be able to get between Alec and Victor if needed. Alec was an unbonded Guide, and Victor… _Merciful Angel_ , Victor was an _unbonded Sentinel._

The man smiled at him. It looked far too much like a leering sort of smirk for Alec’s comfort. “Ah, Mr. Lightwood. I assume the Inquisitor told you of my coming?”

“She did,” Alec said flatly. “Ten minutes ago.”

“Yes, good…”

He didn’t let Victor get far. Alec cut him off with a sharp glare, not even needing to raise his voice to speak directly overtop of him. “She didn’t, however, mention you were a Sentinel. Nor were we given the proper time to prepare for an unbonded Sentinel to come into our Pride House.”

Victor’s smirk only grew. “In times of war, such necessities often don’t have time to be observed. A _proper_ Pride with clear, steady leadership, is always prepared for any given eventuality.”

The rebuke behind his words was clear. Victor wasn’t the first Clave official to insist that no Pride could be led by a Guide alone. Nor would he be the last. They just rarely voiced their beliefs in front of his people like this. Usually it happened behind closed doors.

Isabelle gave a low, barely-there growl, and Alec could feel how tense Jace was. A simple gesture of his hand was all it took for Alec to silence them. “Why don’t we go to my office?” Alec suggested, trying not to sound as stiff as he felt. He hoped to the Angel the pain wasn’t leaking into his voice or into his scent. “I’ll have someone gather your bag and take it to a guest room.”

Victor’s smile never faltered. “I’m sure I can find my own way. I wouldn’t want to interrupt whatever plans you have for the night.” That said, he walked past Alec. “I’d like to meet in the Head office in the morning to discuss plans for this Institute, Mr. Lightwood.”

He didn’t give Alec time to agree or disagree or even to ask what _time_. He just walked away and left Alec standing there looking like an idiot.

The whole Ops Center stayed silent for a moment after he left. Slowly, people started talking amongst themselves, though the conversation was short and stilted. There were still quite a few that were sneaking looks Alec’s way.

Jace leaned toward Alec like he wanted to reach out to him but wasn’t quite sure if it was safe. “Alec.”

“Don’t,” Alec cut in sharply. He had to take a deep breath to reign in his temper. “Just… don’t.”

Right at the moment it was taking every ounce of control Alec had not to start psychically spilling all over the place. His headache was stronger than ever, and his shields were wavering more and more, threatening to topple at one wrong move. He had to take a few deep breaths just to steady himself enough to stay standing.

Alec drew himself up a little taller, squaring his shoulders and lifting his chin. “We’ve got a patrol shift in a few hours. I’ll meet you guys back here.”

His siblings watched him go with varying looks of worry. Jace could feel the turmoil inside of his parabatai; that ever-present ache that Alec had once told him – after getting very, very drunk – was the place where a Guide felt the need for their Sentinel, and the sharp, jagged edge of emotions too strong to tamp down. Alec might have a reputation of being cold and unfeeling to most people, but Jace knew better. As did Isabelle.

The two shared a brief, speaking look. “Ro-Sham-Bo?” Jace asked.

With Clary watching on in amusement, the two held out their fists and, on a three-count, made their selection. Isabelle’s rock beat Jace’s scissors, and she smashed her hand into his, smirking at him. “I don’t know why you try that. You always lose.”

“Yeah, yeah. You go do your job, I’m gonna go run through some drills.”

It was a common practice for them when Alec was feeling like this. Isabelle usually ended up standing guard over whatever space Alec was in so that she could make sure no one bothered him until he was feeling better. While she did that, Jace would go and either rest, relax, or run through some drills that worked almost like meditation for him, making sure that the peace he felt was easily sent along the parabatai bond to try and help Alec steady himself. It was the most they were able to do for him. He didn’t exactly allow them to do much else.

They took care of their own around here. Whether Alec liked it or not, that meant they took care of him, too.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for after-effects of violence towards Downworlders

For about the hundredth time since patrol had started Alec found himself wanting to just sit down and stop. At least for a little while. After an evening of paperwork and meditation he’d hoped that he’d be able to make it through tonight’s patrol all right. At least out here he was around his siblings, whose presence always made him feel a little bit better, and he could take to the rooftops to watch over them while avoiding being around anyone else. Though even up high the way he was didn’t completely remove him from their feel.

Sometimes Alec found himself wishing for some of the few perks mundane Guides got. While they weren’t treated the best in the past, mundanes were at least _trying_ to be better, and that meant that there were some perks that they had that Shadowhunters couldn’t really afford. Namely, what Alec had heard were called _clean rooms_. Now, the Institute had those for Sentinels just like mundanes did—a room where everything was cut off, no outside sounds, no strange smells, not at all except blankness—so that an overloaded Sentinel could relax, but they didn’t have one for Guides. There was nothing set up for when a Guide got overloaded. They were just expected to either deal with it, or retreat and find some way to get themselves back in shape and get out again.

Most of the Guides Alec knew used either meditation in their private chambers, or some form of sparring or running drills to sort of narrow their focus down and process out the unwanted emotions. Nothing was better than being able to rely on their Sentinel, though. To ground themselves in touch the same way their Sentinel grounded on them. While Guides might be there to help a Sentinel control their senses or keep from getting lost, a Sentinel was there to help shield their Guide and steady them when they got bogged down by emotions.

A clean room for Guides sounded kind of amazing at the moment. Alec couldn’t even begin to picture what it would feel like. To be able to have somewhere that was cut off from everyone else. Somewhere that people weren’t allowed to get close to. Even just five minutes in a place like that would be heavenly.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight, big brother,” Isabelle said, interrupting Alec’s thoughts.

He took his eyes away from where they’d been scanning around him and brought them over to her. She’d been walking with Jace and Clary before, scouting ahead, but now she settled easily in beside him not showing any trouble matching his stride. Even so, Alec adjusted automatically, slowing himself down just a little to account for her shorter legs. “I’m always quiet.”

“True.” A wide grin lit up her face. “But usually you would’ve at least snapped at Jace or Clary by now. Especially with as much as he’s showing off tonight.”

Alec rolled his eyes, yet a faint smile ghosted over his lips. It was true Jace seemed to be in the mood to show off tonight. He usually was. It only got worse when Clary was with them. For the most part Alec tried to curb it, at least a little, but he wasn’t going to admit to Isabelle that he was a bit grateful for it tonight. He’d been trying to avoid Clary ever since this afternoon. Every time he looked at her all he could hear was the shock in her voice as she said: _“But you’re not wearing a collar._ ” The last thing he wanted was to hear more rhetoric like that.

Still, he wasn’t going to worry his sister with things like that. Isabelle worried about him enough was it was. “I’m fine,” he told her, doing his best to make his voice steady so she wouldn’t be able to hear the lie in it.

“You know, you don’t have to be fine all the time. It’s okay to have a bad day now and again. Especially after a day like today.”

“ _I’m fine_.” Alec stressed the words a little harder this time.

There was no chance for Isabelle to argue. All of a sudden something hit Alec’s shields, _hard_ , and a spike of pain pressed against his temples. He never felt it as his knees tried to buckle, or as Isabelle called out his name. All he could feel was the sharp, agonizing waves of _pain_ and _fear_ that were washing over him. The only thing that saved Alec from getting lost underneath them was the flare of his parabatai bond and the warmth of Jace’s hand on his shoulder.

“Come on, brother,” Jace was saying, his voice right there in front of Alec. Their foreheads were pressing together, Alec realized, and they were…they were kneeling on the hard, cold ground. Jace didn’t seem the least bit bothered by it. He held Alec’s shoulder and the back of his head and kept their foreheads pressed together. “Focus right here on me. You know how this works. Come on, anchor on me.”

He wanted to. Oh, Raziel, how he wanted to. But now that Alec was able to pull back from the pain even the tiniest bit, he realized what it was. “We need to go.” The words felt thick and unsteady in his mouth, like his tongue had forgotten how to make the motions.

“We can take a minute to breathe first,” Jace tried to tell him.

Only Alec shook his head. No, no they couldn’t. “We need to go.” This time the words were steadier. He slowly, achingly, pushed up to his feet. It was embarrassing how much he needed Jace’s help to get there. Yet he didn’t let it stop him.

Alec was saved from having to find the words to what he needed to say. At his side, Isabelle had gone tense, and a look showed her sniffing the air. Fire flashed in her eyes. “I smell blood. Angel blood, and demon blood.”

There was no more time for coddling any of them. They moved together, following Isabelle’s senses and Alec’s empathy until they found an old, abandoned looking store. It was easy to fall into formation. To act out a plan that they’d practiced and done multiple times before. The only difference was Clary, who stayed at Jace’s side as he burst in the front door, leaving Alec and Isabelle to take the sides.

What they found inside was something that would haunt all of them for a long time to come.

There seemed to be blood _everywhere_ inside the old store. The place looked like a slaughterhouse. Three dead Circle members were lying on one side of the room, their circle runes easy to see, and a dead woman was at the far side of the room. Against her was small body of a girl, no more than six, with clear fox ears sticking up from her blonde hair. The only sound in the room was the soft, low sobs of the young girl. She was the only person left alive in the whole building.

“Oh my God,” Clary breathed out. Her voice sounded like a gunshot in the silent room.

The girl didn’t even look up at the sound. She just stayed where she was, crying into the body of the woman beside her.

Alec felt the pain she was in – felt the grief that was so strong it threatened to suck him under. Yet nothing could’ve stopped him from going forward. He put his bow over his shoulder and moved toward the child, hands out carefully in front of him, and he did his best to project a calming aura. The same way he’d done for his siblings countless times when comforting them after a nightmare. “Hey,” he called out softly. “Hey there, sweetheart, I’m going to come over there with you now, okay? I’m not gonna hurt you.”

The girl just kept crying, her face buried against the woman. This close Alec caught the faint whisper of her voice. “ _Mama_.”

 _Oh, Angel_. Alec’s heart ached. He moved even closer to the young warlock – young _Guide_. Her grief was pouring out of her in a way only a Guide could do. Whether or not she’d been online before tonight, she was definitely online now. Online and with absolutely no shields to help keep her protected from their emotions and the emotions of death and pain that still hung like a heavy fog over the building. There was no way in Heaven or Hell that Alec could’ve walked away from her. His heart was throbbing when he knelt down at her side. “Come here, sweetheart.”

She didn’t fight it when Alec drew her carefully away from the woman. Whether that was because she felt he was a Guide, and she trusted him because of it as most young Guides did, or because she was just too exhausted and grief-stricken to fight. Either way, she let Alec bring her in against his chest. He held her close with one arm while his other braced on the ground, allowing him to push himself up and away from the corpse. He felt Pax brushing up alongside him and caught sight of a small deer pressing up against Pax’s side. The girl pressed herself in as close to Alec as the deer was to Pax. Both of them were clearly seeking comfort. At the moment it was one of the only things Alec could offer her. Comfort, and the protection of his shields, flimsy though they were.

The buzz of magic in the air was the only warning they all got before a portal opened in the middle of the shop. Alec drew the girl even closer to his chest while he reached for his seraph blade with his free hand. He had no idea who this was but he wasn’t going to let just anyone around this child. Not now.

The two people that stepped out of the portal weren’t anyone that Alec recognized. There was a woman with blue skin and white hair, and another woman with feathers on her cheeks and around her eyes. Both of them looked around in shock and horror as soon as they landed. But it was the feathered warlock who caught sight of Alec first. All it took was one look at the girl in his arms and the seraph blade in his hand and he saw the rage that crossed her face. “You _bastard_ ,” she snarled out.

No one had a chance to do anything. A blast of magic sent Isabelle, Jace, and Clary flying back, and then the feathered woman was making her way toward Alec, a ball of pure magic in her hand and fury in her eyes.

Her fury was like acid against Alec’s brain. Negative emotions always hurt; more so when he was so exposed to them like he was now. Alec had to grit his teeth against the pain to keep form screaming. Turning his body to move the girl out of the line of fire as best as he could, Alec lifted his seraph blade. His voice came out hard from the effort to keep himself under control. “I don’t know who you are, or what you’re doing here, but I suggest you _back off_.”

“We didn’t do this!” Clary called out. She was straining against whatever was holding her and the others to the wall. Near her, Jace was furiously struggling as well, and his voice was full of threat as he demanded “Let us go! We were just trying to help!”

From Isabelle there was only a furious snarl.

The blue-skinned woman reached forward and grabbed the arm of the one she’d came with. “Anna, wait. _Look_. He’s not hurting her.” She looked up, eyes running over Alec and the girl, while at the same time she drew her friend Anna back a little more. As she held Anna back, her eyes locked on Alec’s. “My name is Catarina, and I promise you, I’m not here to harm you or her. We only came to check on a distress call from a friend.” There, she paused, eyes darting to the woman in the corner and flashing briefly with a sharp grief that had Alec’s stomach churning. When her eyes came back to Alec and the girl, they were darker, yet steady. “That’s her daughter, Nani. She looks like she’s hurt. Please, I’m a healer. Can I look at her?”

She wasn’t lying. That much Alec could easily tell. It was enough to get him to relax slightly, though not enough to get him to let his guard down. The little girl, Nani, was still clinging tightly to Alec. He did his best to project a soothing aura down to her in the hopes that it’d help her keep calm.

When Alec finally answered Catarina, his firm “No” clearly surprised them. Anna tensed, her magic glowing bright where it still held the others back, and Alec met her glare for glare. He didn’t give her a chance to start snapping at him again. “The kid’s a Guide, and she’s online. The only thing keeping her from feeling anything in this angel-forsaken room is me. Now, let my friends go so we can get her out of here.” Before his control wavered enough to drop his shields and he and Nani would both be exposed to the horror left in this room.

“Oh, _gods_ ,” Anna breathed out, her anger shifting easily to horror. At the same time her magic let go of the others.

Thankfully, Isabelle seemed to have calmed herself down some, though she came right up to Alec and immediately placed herself protectively between him and the others. Jace and Clary took up a post on either side of Alec without getting too close. Though, Alec had to step a little more toward Jace to get away from Clary’s stronger emotions.

Catarina had a look on her face that was old and sad. Her eyes showed a soul who had seen far, far too much like this in her lifetime. “I’m not a Guide, but I’ve learned some pretty strong mental shields. If we get her outside, will you allow me close enough to take a look at her? I don’t even have to touch her. My magic will.”

He knew Nani needed help, and everything was telling him that these two were safe. They were going to have to take the risk of healing her. Slowly, Alec nodded.

Getting outside was easy enough. They didn’t settle for just going out the door, though. Isabelle led them across the street and up to the rooftop. High ground that was easily defensible. Also, far enough away from the building they’d been in that Alec was actually able to breathe a little easier.

He ended up sitting on the rooftop of that building with the small warlock child cradled in his lap while Catarina knelt in front of him. Blue magic shone around her hand, leading down to Nani. It was taking a lot of effort but Alec managed to keep his shields tightly over her so that she wouldn’t pick up on Catarina’s worry, or grief. Though it meant that _he_ was getting an almost unfiltered dose of it.

Anna was making phone calls nearby. She’d mentioned calling both their Alpha Sentinel as well as a strong Guide. Both would be needed. The Guide would be able to take over for Alec, keeping Nani safe until she was able to start working on her own mental shields, and the Alpha Sentinel needed to know what was happening in their territory.

“She’s in shock,” Catarina murmured, drawing Alec’s eyes to her face. Her magic faded away from both her hand and Nani. “I’ve healed what physically ails her. The rest…there’s no magic cure for that.”

No, there wasn’t. Nani was going to have a long, hard road ahead of her. Coming online early like this wasn’t pleasant. Alec knew the kind of things she was going to face on top of the grief she was going to have to deal with, and it made him want to keep her wrapped up close to him to try and shield her from it all the same way he was shielding her mind now.

The moment was interrupted by a portal opening up close by. Even as Alec looked up to assess the threat, he the person coming through and found himself instinctively relaxing. The undeniable presence of a Guide was easy to pick up on from the instant the young man stepped out. One look at him and Alec relaxed further. This guy was the image of what most people expected of a Guide. Slender, with a gentle look and presence to him. He was tall, maybe close to Alec in height, with tanned skin and long black hair.

The man saw them right away yet didn’t rush toward them. Wide sea-green eyes went from Nani to Alec. Then, to the complete shock of everyone on the rooftop, the man carefully went down to one knee a few feet away while waving a hand to close the portal behind him. “Greetings, Alpha. I am Tomas, a Guide called to be of assistance in whatever capacity you need. May I approach?”

Surprise had Alec’s eyebrows shooting up toward his hairline. _What the hell?_ “Uh…yeah. Yeah.”

One smooth move had the Guide shifting from one knee to the other and sliding forward as he did it. It put him right beside Alec. “How may I be of assistance to you?”

A look around showed that the others found this as strange as Alec did, though Isabelle seemed to be amused by it, and Catarina was smothering a smile. There wasn’t really time for Alec to think much on it, though. Not when he had something more important to take care of. So, he pushed those thoughts aside and drew himself up. “She’s freshly online, and she’s in shock, both physical and empathic. She needs to be shielded and taken somewhere to rest until she can heal enough to start working on her own shields.”

“I would be honored to help,” Tomas said, bowing his head.

Transferring Nani from Alec to Tomas was as easy as lifting her and sliding her into the other’s arms. Tomas’ shields were like water, flowing over all the spaces where Alec was letting go, keeping her safe throughout the transition until she was finally in his arms, fully under his care.

The loss of her hit Alec harder than he’d thought. What little control he’d had over himself wavered and started to crash as soon as he was free. Alec felt his shields fall away and knew there was nothing he could do about it. Raw emotion washed over him like someone had poured acid in his brain. He heard the roar of his gorilla, the swearing of his siblings, and then much closer, pressing right up against him, there was heat and the snarl of a big cat. Pax and the cat were curling themselves around Alec like they could protect him.

Amid the pain and chaos came something else—something bright, and warm. Like a balm over all the places that were so open and raw. Whatever it was, it came right up to Alec without any hesitation. Smooth, steady hands were on Alec’s arms, his shoulders, pulling him until he fell forward against something warm and solid. Then those arms wrapped around him, one hand pressing against the back of his head, and for the first time that Alec could remember he felt _safe_.

“Shh, darling,” a husky voice said, right against his hair. “You’re safe now. I have you.”

Everything about that presence promised _safety_ and _protection_ and _home_. With the last bit of his energy, Alec latched on, body and mind. The only thing he could manage to say as he clung tightly to the body against his was a low, _happy_ “Sentinel.”

The hand in Alec’s hair pressed him in a little closer. Then the Sentinel’s fingers were threading through his hair to rub at his scalp, and it took everything Alec had not to purr at the sensation. “My Guide.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter we go back just a little to check in with Magnus and see what brought him from where he was to where Alec is...

Sometimes Magnus really, really hated being a leader. He was the High Warlock of Brooklyn, a title he’d damn well earned and wasn’t going to give up anytime soon, and one of the highest-ranking Sentinels in New York. That meant that there were a lot of people that looked up to him. Or who looked to him for answers. In a time like this, with Valentine once more on the rise, that meant that a lot of expectations were being heaped on Magnus' shoulders. Expectations he had no idea if he was going to be able to meet.

It was something he couldn’t help but grumble about when he and his friends got together for their monthly gathering.

“What do they expect from me?” Magnus asked, slumping down in his favorite chair. He, Ragnor, and Catarina were out on the balcony of Magnus’ Brooklyn penthouse. Nice shoes had been abandoned at the door, coats were draped over chairs inside, and blankets had been dragged out here with them to the patio furniture Magnus kept around just for this purpose.

When the three of them got together their nights always started well enough. Dinner, conversation, maybe a drink or two. Yet somehow it always devolved to this.

Catarina, who was curled up on his loveseat with a quilt and a cup of coffee, shot him a look that held far less sympathy than he'd hoped for. “You knew what you were taking on when you agreed to be High Warlock.”

That had Magnus letting out a low huff. He rolled his head to better be able to give Catarina a look of scorn. “Yes. I was agreeing to take care of the _warlocks_. Not be responsible for the whole of the Downworld. Or to clean up Shadowhunter messes.”

“You have a reputation for taking care of those around you,” Ragnor said. He had his own chair, which he was curled up in, far too dignified to sprawl out like the other two. Though the few drinks he’d had at dinner as well as the one he was holding now had served to help relax him enough to even go so far as to remove the cravat he’d worn to dinner. “That is what these people want. They believe that by sucking up to you they can be protected.”

Magnus let out a heavy sigh and slumped lower in his seat. Gone was the calm and collected playboy that most of the world got to see. Here with his friends he was free to be who he wanted. Who he actually was. He didn't have to play up the way that people saw him. He didn’t have to play the part of High Warlock, or Sentinel Prime, or any of that other nonsense that dogged his steps the instant he walked out his front door. He was just plain Magnus, and that was good enough for them.

Of course, being feared or respected by others had its perks. Most people wouldn't dare mock Magnus too openly. Unlike his friends here.

The eyeroll Ragnor gave him as he watched Magnus slump in his seat was heavy enough it was a surprise his eyes didn’t just roll straight to the back of his head. “How is it that you grow more dramatic each time I see you?”

“It's an art, my dear.” Flashing him a quick grin, Magnus raised his glass in a mock toast. He drained it off with one last drink, and then tossed the glass over his shoulder, not the least bit worried when he heard it hit the wall and shatter. Glass could be easily cleaned up with the wave of his hand. It was worth the satisfaction he felt at breaking it. Momentary though it was.

Catarina, well used to their bickering, ignored it completely. She kept her focus on Magnus as she asked him “What do you plan on doing?”

Her simple question had Magnus sighing again. “I don’t know.” All he knew was that he needed to do something. There was an annoying sensation crawling under his skin that he hadn’t been able to get rid of for days and days now. Like there was something he should be doing. Or maybe something he’d forgotten. Whatever it was, he couldn’t figure it out but nor could he let go of it. Even his magic was on edge from the sensation.

When he tried to put that into words for his friends, the two of them gave one another a look that spoke volumes. It was enough to have Magnus arching both eyebrows at them. “What? You two have thought of something. Something I won’t like, judging by those expressions. What is it?”

There was another look between them that only made Magnus want to sit up even more. Yet he stayed where he was and carefully watched them.

It was Catarina who spoke up first. Her tone was gentle, yet firm, that same steadiness that she always took on when she was trying to tell him something she thought he wouldn’t want to hear. She wasn’t often wrong. “Perhaps it’s time you start to lessen your potion, Magnus.”

“She’s right,” Ragnor cut in. He didn’t give Magnus any time to protest it. Just used his glass to point at his friend while giving him a stern look. “You know as well as I do that Sentinels come with instincts the rest of us don’t have. Did you stop to think that maybe what you’re feeling is your inner Sentinel trying to tell you something?”

Magnus scoffed. Of course he’d thought of that. “My _inner Sentinel_ , as you put it, has been silent for a long time, my dear. I highly doubt he’s going to be speaking up now.” He’d worked hard to create a potion to make sure of that. Magnus had spent years perfecting a potion to suppress Sentinel abilities. After he’d lost his first and only Guide, a sweet young girl who’d been like a little sister to him, he’d refused to bond again. Her loss had left a hole in him. One that he’d tried to fill with parties, drugs, and Camille. His senses had been so out of control by the time he surfaced it was a wonder he was still sane. He’d left Camille, perfected his potion, and pushed the Sentinel part of himself down so far he could almost forget it was there most of the time.

Very few people approved of that. His friends especially.

“Your inner Sentinel has been _smothered_ for a long time,” Ragnor fired back.

Catarina sat up a little, twisting her upper half to better be able to look at Magnus. “He’s not wrong. Magnus, it’s been, what—decades, centuries?—since you’ve let that part of yourself out. It can’t be good to keep this up. If that part of you is speaking up loud enough to be heard over your potion, maybe it’s trying to tell you something important.”

“Or maybe it’s just going haywire because Valentine is back. Just the same way that every Sentinel around is on edge,” Magnus pointed out. Most of the Sentinels in New York were on edge in one way or another. Valentine was one of the biggest threats they’d ever faced. A monster from the past so many of them had hoped was gone for good. To have him alive and actively working again was like a nightmare for them all. One that was only going to get worse.

The bleakness of those thoughts put a damper on the easy-going mood that they’d been carrying up until then. All three of them had lived through Valentine’s last round against the Downworld. They remembered what it’d been like; the fear that had spread through Downworlders and Guides alike. Neither group had been safe against the man and his followers. Having him back had stirred the whole of the Downworld into a frenzy.

There was every chance that this really was the reason that Magnus’ inner Sentinel was speaking up so loudly, even against the potion Magnus took. Valentine was a serious threat against the tribe, and protecting the tribe was one of the strongest instincts a Sentinel had. Equally strong, if not more so, was the urge to _protect_ _the Guide_. Right now both the tribe and all the Guides within it were in danger. Magnus could no more walk away from them than he could cut off his own limbs.

It was no surprise when Catarina left not even twenty minutes later, or Ragnor a few minutes after her. The good mood had been lost.

After seeing them out, Magnus took a moment to send a wave around the loft, cleaning up after them. Then he made his way across his home, activating wards and shutting everything down. It’d been a long day and night, not all of it good, and he was more than ready to crawl into his bed. Tomorrow was going to hold a million and one more things that he needed to do. New problems, new threats, more people demanding help or protection or _something_.

In the dark of his room, stretched out under soft silk sheets, Magnus sighed heavily. He felt as Chairman Meow hopped up down by his feet. Moments later the tiny cat was walking up the length of Magnus’ leg, over his stomach, to finally settle down on his chest.

A faint smile twitched at one corner of Magnus’ mouth. He lifted one hand to pet at Chairman’s ears. “Why is it you ignore me all day, yet demand attention each night before bed, hm?” The Chairman just looked at him like he was an idiot, which only served to make Magnus chuckle. “You’re ridiculous.”

For a few minutes Magnus contented himself with simply petting his cat and trying to let his thoughts drift. Inevitably, they always drifted back toward the one thing he was trying so damn hard not to think about. _Valentine_.

What were they going to do? The Downworld was looking to Magnus for answers, and at the moment he didn’t really have any. His people needed protected. For all that Magnus might gripe about shouldering the responsibility, who else was going to do it? The warlocks looked to Magnus as their High Warlock to try and keep them safe. It was his job—his responsibility. But Raphael and Luke, the respective leaders of the vampires and werewolves, were also turning to Magnus for advice. They wanted to know what he wanted to do, what kind of plans he had. He had no idea how to tell them he didn’t have anything.

Fighting against Valentine once had almost destroyed Magnus. It _had_ destroyed quite a few people who mattered to him. Going up against him again was terrifying.

Magnus was still tossing plans around in his mind as he slowly began to fall into an uneasy sleep. In his sleep, he dreamt of Valentine and his Circle members killing everyone he loved, of the Shadowhunters once more hunting down Downworlders like dogs, while somewhere off in the distance a cat was screaming and something else was roaring, hard and deep. Through it all was a constant itch under his skin that never seemed to go away.

* * *

Morning didn’t bring with it any sense of peace. Magnus felt like he’d only just gotten to sleep when the ringing of his phone woke him up. That was his first warning that the day just wasn’t going to be a good day. Actually answering the phone only confirmed that. It seemed that Circle members has attacked a Downworlder shop not to far away from Magnus’ territory. The place was a little café that catered to Downworlder tastes. Magnus had gone there plenty of times, and he snapped up coffee from there frequently. Most warlocks had an arrangement with the café to summon themselves coffee or other such items and just deposit their money straight into a specially made jar in the kitchen to pay for them.

Hearing that they’d been hit had Magnus up and moving well before he would’ve liked to be. Just fifteen minutes after the phone call found Magnus standing in the middle of _Common Grounds_ staring around him with an ache inside his chest. There was a strange ringing in his ears as he took in all the damage.

Tables were turned over, the display where treats were always set out was smashed, half of the windows were broken out, and the door was on the ground. Worse than all that was the blood. On the counter, on the floor, even some on the walls. Someone had used it to paint a giant circle onto the wall. Not a summoning circle, nor any other spell component that Magnus knew. No, this was Valentine’s men, marking their crime and taking credit for it in a way that those in the Shadow world would understand. They weren’t even trying to hide what they’d done. They were _proud_.

Magnus stood in the center of that all and fought down the kind of rage he knew could cause some serious damage if he didn’t keep it under control.

A heavy sigh from off to his right reminded Magnus that he wasn’t alone. He looked over at the local werewolf pack Alpha, Luke Garroway, the one who’d called Magnus out here. He was a police officer which meant he found out about things like this before most. His job allowed him to do his best to make sure that the Shadow world wasn’t exposed to the mundanes that stumbled across these things.

Luke looked just as angry and just as broken up about this as Magnus felt. “I’m picking up scents from at least two different wolves, and… three vamps? Maybe four.”

“Three warlocks,” Magnus said flatly. There was a faint ringing in his ears, and the low cry of something off in the distance. “I can feel their magic. It’s fading, but here.”

“This is the fourth place they’ve hit this month. Second one in the past _week_. They’re getting bolder.”

He wasn’t wrong. The Circle was definitely getting bolder. Magnus gave the room one last look. Then he drew in a breath and squared his shoulders. It was time to stop whining about the leadership being thrust upon him. The Downworld needed to get together and figure out how they were going to keep themselves safe. They couldn’t just wait and hope that the Shadowhunters would actually step in and take care of Valentine on their own. Sure, this generation seemed to be breeding a better bunch than before—Magnus had met a couple, a dark-haired beauty and an annoying blond, when they’d come to get Clary Fray’s memories back from him—and he’d heard from others that patrol groups were kinder than, well, _ever_.

But no matter how much some of the Shadowhunters were trying, there were too many that _weren’t_ , and too much history between them all for any Downworlder—for Magnus—to just extend a hand of trust. No, this wasn’t a problem that was going to be solved by involving them, no matter that Valentine was _their_ mess.

“It’s time we started to take care of our own,” Magnus said. He turned to Luke, not even noticing how the Alpha straightened up a little almost instinctively at the sheer presence Magnus was giving off right then. Even with his senses suppressed Magnus was still the top-ranking Sentinel, with enough power in both senses and magic that even the Alpha Wolf recognized it. “I’m done sitting around. We’re having a meeting tonight to discuss the future of the Downworld. Bring your beta, but no one else. I’ll take care of contacting the others.”

Magnus spun on his heel and walked away without waiting for Luke to respond.


	6. Chapter 6

The few hours between calling the meeting and actually arriving there had done nothing to cool Magnus’ temper. He’d spent the afternoon _furious_ as he’d simultaneously tried to hunt down any trace of the warlocks he’d felt in there as well as build some sort of plan that would keep the rest of the Downworld safe. Neither project was succeeding There were no signs of the missing warlocks, and the only plans he’d been able to come up with were ones that he knew no one was going to like.

He wasn’t wrong.

“You want us to _hide_?” Raphael demanded, the snarl in his words easy to hear.

The group of them were meeting in an old house that Magnus owned in one of the less populated parts of the city. A while ago he’d turned it into a sort of meeting hall of sorts. With the amount of wards that Magnus, Ragnor, and Catarina had put on it, there was no way anyone could find it that didn’t have permission. Only a select few people were keyed to the wards to be allowed entrance.

Tonight, those people were Magnus, Luke and his beta Maia, Raphael and his newest fledgling Simon, and Meliorn and another Knight by the name of Petra.

“Would you rather die?” Magnus shot back. He was slouched back in his chair, fingers tapping away at the armrest. This plan wasn’t one that he liked all that much himself. It was, however, the smartest thing to do, at least for now. “The Circle’s taken to hunting us down in public places. They don’t care about any casualties. If we can fall back and regroup for a while, we might be able to come up with a better plan without being constrained by time, or fear of another imminent attack.”

Luke leaned forward to better look at Magnus, arms resting on the table. “Not all of us have the luxury of being able to run. Some of us have homes, families, jobs.”

“Is your job more important than your life?” Meliorn asked, tilting his head like Luke was something curious to study.

The werewolf didn’t bat an eye. “It’s important enough for when we all go back home afterward. While some of you guys might be able to hide and then come back like you were never gone, the rest of us don’t have it so easy. We can’t just abandon our jobs and expect them to be there when we get back, and we rely on those jobs to get us things like food and shelter.”

“Better to lose your job than to lose your life, I would think,” Meliorn said.

Magnus fought not to roll his eyes. Dealing with the Seelie was always a pain in the ass. Meliorn, at least, wasn’t as bad as some of them, but he was bad enough on occasion. He was also extremely loyal to his Queen. “Both of you are right,” Magnus interjected as soon as Meliorn gave a small pause. He needed to speak before the Seelie Knight pushed them a direction they wouldn’t be able to come back from. “I’m not discounting the needs of your people, Lucian. I’m not discounting any of that. But the fact of the matter is…”

What it was he would’ve said next the room would never know. Magnus trailed off, his words forgotten, when he turned his head to look around the table and caught sight of something he hadn’t expected to see here. That he hadn’t expected to see _at all_.

It’d been decades since the last time Magnus had seen his spirit animal. Not every Sentinel or Guide had the strength to see theirs. Fewer still had the ability to interact with them the way that warlocks did. There’d been a time where Magnus had seen his spirit animal almost constantly. She was a part of him. One that he’d grown used to seeing everywhere. When she’d stopped coming around, it’d broken a part of him.

Yet here she was for the first time in so very long. The large jaguar was pacing in agitation at the far end of the room. Watching her had every instinct and sense Magnus possessed on high alert. Ara’s tail was lashing in clear agitation behind her, and her fangs were bared as she snarled at him.

“Magnus?”

He ignored whoever it was that was speaking to him. It wasn’t important in that moment. Magnus was too caught up in staring at Ara; he hadn’t even realized that he’d pushed up to his feet, or that there was magic crackling around his hands. Something was wrong. For her to show up like this after so long away from him couldn’t mean anything good. The bad feeling it gave Magnus only got worse as that strange itching sensation that had been under his skin for days now started getting stronger. Something was wrong. _Something was wrong_.

There was a faint sound of a phone ringing somewhere nearby. It grew louder and quieter, back and forth, as the dials over Magnus’ hearing started to spin in a way they hadn’t in a long, long time. A faint breeze was the only warning Magnus had as Raphael sped forward, stole his phone, and sped away. Magnus tried to focus on that—it was likely important. Yet he couldn’t look away from Ara.

The instincts he’d worked so hard to suppress, senses that he’d locked down, were all rising to the forefront under a wave of his own magic that was washing away every bit of his potion. For the first time in so _very_ long the Alpha Sentinel in him was free. And all at once that itching that Magnus had been feeling slammed into him with the force of a tidal wave, and Magnus knew – “ _Guide_.” _Pain, fear, guilt, heartache._ There was something wrong with his Guide!

It was those very instincts that prompted Magnus to turn and open up a portal. He didn’t care for the voices that tried to call to him. Nor did he have any specific destination in mind—something that one should never do when stepping through a portal. He just leaned against Ara as she pressed up against his side and focused solely on his Guide as he stepped through the portal.

He had no idea where he was going, or where the portal would spit him out. All Magnus knew was that it was going to take him to his Guide, and that was what was important.

When he landed on a strange rooftop somewhere—still in New York, he could tell—Magnus already had his magic in his hands ready for whatever threat he might find. What he didn’t expect was to find the rooftop full of warlocks and Shadowhunters both. But it only took one sweep for Magnus to find exactly what it was he was looking for. Ara had beat him there, rushing straight forward instead of assessing the area the way that Magnus had done. She was already curled around the body of a young man who had squished himself into a tight ball, just radiating waves of anguish.

There was a younger guide nearby, in the arms of an older one, as well as a Sentinel. The sight of another Sentinel spawned Magnus into movement. An unbonded Sentinel near _his_ Guide? A snarl was already on Magnus’ lips as he darted across the rooftop, straight for _his_ Guide, and immediately put himself between them. The Sentinel was smart; she backed away, head bowed down in a sign of deference, hands out on either side of her. Smart, for a Shadowhunter. She was making sure he knew she was no threat.

Even so, Magnus kept an eye on her at the same time that he reached for his Guide. He needed to hold him, to help him. His Guide was in so much pain. Magnus did the only thing he could think of to do. He gathered the young man up into his arms and pulled him in close. In response, the Guide practically fell into him, making the softest whimpering sounds as he did, and Magnus felt that link that had led him here grow even stronger.

“Shh, darling,” Magnus murmured, bending down to press his lips against his Guide’s hair. He drew in a breath of generic unscented shampoo—no matter what they thought, there was always a scent to them—and that hint of something oddly sweet that was unique to the nephilim. The Guide’s heart was pounding out a hard, fast rhythm that spoke of pain, and it felt like his every muscle was tensed. Magnus pressed his nose into the boy’s hair to get a better smell. “You’re safe now. I have you.”

This wonderful, glorious boy sighed into him as if Magnus’ words cut the very strings holding him up. His arms went around Magnus’ waist and he pressed closer, pushing their bodies together. When Magnus started to stroke at his hair, he made a low, happy sound, and murmured “ _Sentinel_.”

Magnus drew his Guide in closer. He could feel the Guide’s empathy reaching out to him the same way his hands had. They grabbed on, holding tightly to him, and the first stage of a bond slid into place like a key in a lock. Magnus swore he felt the click of it straight down to his soul. Places that had been cold for so long were being filled with warmth. Holding the body in his arms, feeling the soul twining together with his, Magnus smiled. “My Guide.”

The bond slid into place between them as easy as breathing. Guides always started the bond, their empathy working to reach out and build a bridge between the two souls, and Sentinels usually finished them when they took the time to imprint their Guide on every sense they had. Unlike what some people seemed to think, it didn’t have to be sexual, though Magnus had always thought to himself that sexual bonds seemed to just work _better_. To belong to someone, and to have someone belong to him, he didn’t see how they _couldn’t_ be everything to one another. He’d been platonic with the only other Guide he’d ever had, but they’d never fully bonded, either. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to complete his imprint of her. Not when it felt so… intimate.

His moment with his Guide was interrupted when one of the Shadowhunters—an angry looking blond—stepped toward them. Magnus’ gaze snapped up to him, and he gave a low, warning snarl. One that made it clear that the guy needed to _stay back_.

Luckily, the other Sentinel caught his arm, stopping him from coming forward by giving a low “Jace, wait.”

This guy, Jace, shot the girl an incredulous look. “ _What_?”

“You can’t get in the way. The Clave could have you up on pair-bond interference.”

Jace’s voice was a little sharper this time, his eyes darting back and forth between Magnus and the girl. “Are you kidding me? This guy? He’s a warlock!”

The whole rooftop went quiet at that. The dark-haired Sentinel and the red-haired girl both glared at Jace. At the same time, Magnus’ Guide gave a soft whimper and tried to curl in against him a little more. Magnus was shielding him, yet that wasn’t enough to completely block off his empathy. He was far too raw to handle this much emotion. They needed a safe, quiet space. Preferably a safe-room under wards where they could rest together.

The rest of them didn’t matter anymore. Magnus carefully gathered his Guide up into his arms, only needing a little bit of magic to do it. Then he took a step back away from them. It looked like the one she’d called Jace was ready to argue again, but Magnus growled. He flung out one hand, the energy for the portal flinging from him, and with the cries of multiple voices echoing in his ears Magnus darted through.

* * *

The portal ride didn’t seem to bother the young, sweet little Guide in Magnus’ arms. He pressed in close yet didn’t do much else as they went through and came out the other side. The way he sighed in relief almost as soon as they landed, however – that told Magnus he’d made the right choice in destinations.

He’d almost taken the Guide home. It was a strong urge to get his Guide to his own territory where he’d be able to protect him behind the strongest shields in the city. But more than that urge was the one that demanded he _take care_ of his Guide, and right now what his Guide needed was a warlock made safe-room to protect him until they could get his shields reset.

Magnus and Ragnor had worked to set up a few different safe-rooms around the globe. They were far removed from people, and they had a basic set of wards over them. Ones that any warlock worth their salt would be able to tweak and adjust to suit their needs when they came to one.

That was what Magnus did now as he moved carefully toward the bed against the far wall. He reached out to the wards and slowly shifted them around until they were firmly under his control. Then he made damn sure that they were as protected as much as possible, and that there was no way any other warlock could portal in here. On the outside of the wards he made sure to put up the warlock equivalent of a _do not disturb_ sign.

No one would bother them now. That meant that Magnus was free to turn his full focus to the beautiful boy he was holding.

Magnus didn’t try to set him down. Neither one of them needed that right at the moment. Instead, he simply climbed onto the bed with his Guide in his arms and settled the both of them down into the blankets. He held his Guide close, letting the firm weight of him settle over Magnus like the best sort of weighted blanket. With how close they were in height, sitting up with the Guide in his lap would’ve been a bit trickier and it would’ve lacked most of the contact that his Guide needed. Instead, this half-elevated-by-pillows position worked out perfectly.

“There we are,” Magnus murmured as he drew his Guide down over him. A purr started to rumble in his chest in response to the situation. When he felt his Guide deliberately move to put his ear on Magnus’ chest, sinking into him as he listened to that purr, it grew stronger. “I’ve got you now, little Guide. You’re safe.”

There was a faint grumbling sound from the Guide. A nose nuzzled against Magnus’ shirt – not his skin, but the oh-so-soft material of his shirt – and then Magnus was rewarded with the low, husky sound of his Guide’s voice. It was the most beautiful thing Magnus had ever heard, even if it was growling “Not little” at him. There was a pause, and then another rumble of that sweet voice, heavy though it was with exhaustion. “’M Alec.”

Alec. _Alec_. “Short for Alexander?” All that got was another grunt. Magnus grinned. He shifted his hold so that he could trace his fingers up and down _Alec’s_ spine. “Let me just say that it is an absolute _pleasure_ to meet you, Alexander. My name is Magnus. Magnus…”

“Bane,” Alec finished. He twisted a little, never breaking contact with Magnus as he adjusted just enough to be able to look up at him. The Guide part of him was clinging closely to Magnus, their bond buzzing between them as it slowly built and settled a little, Magnus’ shields wrapping Alec up and keeping him protected. At the same time, the Shadowhunter in him was clear as Alec fixed sharp hazel eyes on Magnus. “You’re Magnus Bane, the High Warlock of Brooklyn. I’ve been trying to arrange a meeting with you.”

It took a moment longer than it should have for Magnus to make all the connections there. By general principal, Magnus tended to avoid Shadowhunters, but the only one he could think of that had tried to contact him lately had been… Lightwood, Head of the New York Institute. Which would make the gorgeous being on top of him right now Alexander Lightwood, eldest child of Robert and Maryse Lightwood, and current head of the New York Institute. _Oh, fate is a ridiculous mistress._

“I’m beginning to greatly regret ignoring those missives,” Magnus said, a slow smirk curving over his lips.

Yet another snort came from his Guide, followed by an almost reluctant smile that just lit the boy’s face up. Oh, yes, Magnus was most definitely screwed. Two minutes with his Guide and already he could tell this boy was going to have him wrapped around his finger. Maybe later when the bonding hormones were less he might find it in himself to care a bit more about that. For now, he was more than content to stroke his hands over whatever part of Alec he was able to touch in the beginning of a gradual imprinting that would tie them together even more.

It looked like Alec was perfectly content with that as well. He was like a large cat lying on top of Magnus. For every stroke of Magnus’ hand he kept expecting the boy to start purring. Even the grumpy look he’d been wearing a moment ago began to fade away under the relaxing touch of his Sentinel and the calm atmosphere of the safe-room.

They’d been laying there for who knows how long when Alec finally spoke again. “”s is nice.”

“Which part?” Magnus asked, smiling a little to himself at the way that Alec was once more rubbing against his shirt.

Alec let out a heavy sigh that seemed to take the last of the tension out of him. “You. The room. Can’t remember the last time I didn’t have a headache.”

Those words had Magnus wanting to sit up at attention. He knew his body tensed – knew that his Guide would be able to feel it, too. But all of his focus shifted down to the body on top of his. Sight, sound, smell, touch, even the urge to _taste_. All of narrowed down to everything that made up Alexander Lightwood. He sought out any signs of pain and was only slightly relieved to find none.

Then the rest of Alec’s words sank in and Magnus went tense all over again. “Don’t you have a safe room at the Institute?”

“Too many people there.” The words were just a mumble breathed out into Magnus’ shirt. Yet his ears easily picked up on them. The senses that he’d been denying for so long were fully back and all locked on his Guide.

He took a minute to process what Alec meant. When he did, his eyes went a little wide. That wasn’t something that he’d ever really stopped to think about before – how Shadowhunters made their clean rooms.

The ones for Sentinels were easy enough with runes to use, he supposed. He knew there were ones that made it silent. Blocked all sound from coming in or out. Even white noise generators could be put in if necessary. Other runes, he imagined, could help with smell, or mundane methods could be used. Turning the lights off or making the interior of the room calming would work for sight. Taste was simple enough. Touch was up to the Sentinel, but making a room of Sentinel-friendly fabric didn’t take much.

To make a safe-room for a Guide was nowhere near as easy. They didn’t require protection from physical senses. They needed protection from empathic ones.

“The angels didn’t make a rune for that?”

The soft sound Alec made might’ve been another of his snorts if the boy wasn’t so blissed out. “You really think they’d allow Guides to go around without wearing one if one existed?”

Horror gripped Magnus at just the _thought_. To imagine a Guide with a rune that blocked them from feeling. From the very thing they were made for. It was a terrifying idea. One that made him feel physically _ill_.

But at the same time that meant that Guides were going through their lives as Shadowhunters without any form of protection. How did they cope with it? How did they deal with the now doubt hard emtions that came from being a Shadowhunter? From being exposed to Downworlders that – rightfully so, more often than not – hated or feared the nephilim? Or the terrified mundanes they often saved from demons. How did they deal with the feelings that demons had to give off?

Magnus unconsciously tightened his arms around his Guide as if to somehow protect him after the fact. He made a vow then and there to find a room in the New York Institute and ward it as best as he could. There was no way _his_ Guide was going to go there every single day without somewhere to protect himself. Somewhere to let go of the walls he was forced to keep around himself just to stay sane.

Alec gave a low hum that vibrated him against Magnus’ chest in a pleasantly distracting way. At the same time, his fingers were tracing over Magnus’ side, up over his abs, and then down around where his bellybutton was supposed to be. How on earth Alec had already figured out that that was one of Magnus’ spots, a place to stroke and soothe him, was a mystery. One that Magnus chalked up simply to Guide instincts.

“’m fine now,” Alec slurred out. He flattened his palm against Magnus’ stomach and nuzzled in at his chest. “I got you. _My Sentinel_.”

The warmth of those words filled Magnus. Not just him, but their bond. He felt the sincerity that Alec packed behind those words as well as the small hint of embarrassment. He got the feeling his bonded wasn’t usually so vocal. He didn’t seem at ease with the words he was saying. Yet he said them like they were the most natural thing in the world. Like it was just a common fact that everyone knew.

Deliberately, Magnus steadied his breathing, calming his own emotions down. These were all things they could talk about later. Once the initial rush of the bond was done. For now, his Guide was in a safe-room with Magnus’ warding around him, and Magnus underneath him. He was as protected as possible. The other problems could be solved later. For now, he held on to his Guide and let himself get lulled away.

* * *

Hours passed by as the two of them lay twined together. At some point, Alec’s hands had gotten under Magnus’ shirt, to which Magnus’ magic had responded for him by vanishing it away. Instead of panicking or being in any way weirded out Alec had just nuzzled in closer and let out a sound that was almost a purr.

The bond between them grew thicker and stronger with each passing moment. All the stories that Magnus had heard over the years about how a Sentinel would simply _know_ when they had the right Guide suddenly made so much more sense. It was like their souls were meant to match up.

He still felt fear – the last time he’d had a Guide who he hadn’t even bonded _this_ close with despite all their years together, losing her had almost destroyed him. Something told him that losing Alec _would_.

And yet… and yet there was nothing else in the world that Magnus wanted more. He wanted this. He wanted Alec. With everything that was inside him. And he would do everything he could to protect him. To make him happy.

Alec was the one to start to recover himself first. Little by little Magnus could feel as his Guide began to once more draw his shields up around himself. Bit by bit, layer by layer, he pulled them back up around his mind. The only opening he left was the bond. Even then, it wasn’t an opening so much as a connection that nothing else would be able to break through. He was allowing Magnus access inside his shields with him. Tying his shields _into_ that bond in a way that only served to make their connection even stronger.

He felt it as the last of Alec’s shields finally settled into place. Felt the peace that filled his Guide, the way it softened his scent a little, and he could feel the clarity that was starting to seep back into them both.

Alec spoke up first. He didn’t move, thankfully. Not beyond twisting himself around. Magnus shifted his legs to give Alec a space to settle down into. The action was rewarded with a delicious blush that flooded Alec’s cheeks and neck. For a moment Magnus had to battle back the urge to pull the boy up to him and chase down that blush with his tongue. Map out every inch of Alec’s body, all the different flavors of him, and see just how far down he could make that blush go.

The red deepened a little more. At the same time, in a contrast that was far too adorable, Alec folded his arms over Magnus’ chest and settled his chin there while glaring up at him. “Knock it off.”

Magnus grinned unrepentantly. “My apologies, _sayang_. But, well…” Deliberately he let his eyes run down Alec’s body and then go back to his face.

Instead of continuing to let himself get embarrassed it seemed like Alec chose to just switch the topic entirely. _So adorable._ “We need to talk about a few things, I think.”

“Mm. I would imagine so.”

“I’ve never…” Pausing, Alec blew out a soft breath that danced up to tickle at Magnus’ chin. “I know the theoretic of bonding, but I’ve never done too much research into the actual bond itself. I wasn’t all that thrilled at the idea of ever finding a Sentinel.”

The way he said those last words was like someone bracing for a blow. Like he expected Magnus to be furious with him over it. What kind of people had he been around up until now? Lifting one hand, Magnus reached up to brush back a bit of that tousled black hair. “Nor I a Guide.” In the spirit of honesty, he knew he had to say this next part, though it wasn’t easy to do. “I had a Guide once, a little over a century ago. Our bond wasn’t as strong as what you and I share, yet she was special to me. When I lost her, I shut off my Sentinel. Until you.”

“I’m not anything special, Magnus. There are plenty of better Guides out there.”

“But none of them are _my_ Guide.” Magnus’ voice held just a hint of that Sentinel-growl. Protective, possessive, ready to defend his Guide. Even from himself.

One corner of Alec’s mouth curved up just the slightest bit. Was it Magnus’ imagination, or was there a hint of wonder there? “I know, Sentinel. I’m not trying to take me away from you. I don’t think anyone could even if they dared try. I just, I guess I want you to understand what you’re getting into here.”

“A smart, passionate Guide who takes care of his people and has their care and respect in return?”

That blush was back. Stronger than ever. Alec dropped his eyes down to somewhere around Magnus’ collarbone. “You don’t know that.”

“Alexander.” The use of his full name had Alec’s eyes coming back up. Or perhaps it was something to do with that hint of a growl that was still in Magnus’ tone. Either way, his Guide’s eyes were on him once again and Magnus held that gaze in the hopes that Alec would be able to see _and_ feel just how serious he was. “We may not have met before, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t heard about you. The Alpha Guide of the New York Shadowhunters. One of the most progressive leaders that the Downworld has ever seen. Someone who doesn’t tolerate prejudice and discrimination in his Shadowhunters. Who treats other Downworlders like they’re human.”

“They _are_ ,” Alec mumbled.

Magnus went on as if Alec hadn’t interrupted him. “A Shadowhunter who has been doing his best to set up a Shadow World cabinet to give voice to everyone. One who is spoken highly of by the wolves and even by the vampires – and trust me, I know Raphael well. It takes a lot for him to say something nice about _anyone_. The Downworld likes you more than they’ve liked any other Shadowhunter.”

The blush was back, stronger than ever, and it wasn’t fair just how adorable one little Shadowhunter could be. Magnus wasn’t going to survive this bonding. This young _boy_ was going to end up with Magnus wrapped around his finger – and he couldn’t even bring himself to care.

Alec shook his head like he was trying to shake of Magnus’ words. Then he continued on speaking like he hadn’t heard any of it. Just brushed right past it all despite the embarrassment still clearly written all over him. “I wish I could say the same about the Clave.”

The snort Magnus gave summed up his feelings on _that_. “The Clave has never liked me, darling, and I don’t see that changing.”

“They’re not going to like _this_.”

“The Clave can’t interfere with a pair-bonding,” Magnus reminded him. Even if they tried, he was more than ready to try and take them on.

Alec wrinkled his nose. “They’re going to have to get used to you. As my bonded, you two will be dealing with each other a lot. We can’t have constant animosity.”

“I sincerely hope we don’t have much interaction with them.”

The way Alec looked at him suddenly had Magnus going still. There was a contemplative look in his eyes like he’d just thought of something and wasn’t quite sure about it. For a brief moment his eyes closed. Magnus could feel it as he took a deep breath. When he let that breath back out, he opened his eyes once more. They were dark and full of determination. “Okay, so. You should probably be aware of something.”

“What?” Magnus braced himself, not quite sure what was coming just that it wasn’t going to be good. Not going off of just how tense Alec was.

Still, he couldn’t have been prepared for what came out of Alec’s mouth. “By boding with me, you, um… you’ve officially – legally – become co-head of the New York Institute.”

Every part of Magnus went still. His hand froze where he’d been toying with the bits of hair at the base of Alec’s neck. He knew his eyes had probably gone wide, yet he couldn’t really bring himself to care. “I beg your pardon?”

“They used to promise that to the Sentinels they’d sent to the Institute. So, just to make sure it was something that could really happen, I looked it up. Just to be sure. And, well, it’s written in our laws.”

“They’re not going to allow a warlock to cohead anything, Alexander.”

“They actually can’t stop you.” One corner of Alec’s mouth curved up in a deliciously mischievous way. Subtle, barely noticeable, yet Magnus felt it. “They weren’t very careful with their wording. It only says Sentinel and Guide. Nowhere in there did it say Shadowhunter.”

Holy shit. Magnus blinked a few times. He stared at Alec, waiting for the punchline. For something to tell him that this was a joke. Only, Alec just kept lying there watching him, clearly waiting to see what Magnus was going to do. Waiting for him to say something.

The first thing Magnus wanted to say was a loud _Hell No!_ He did _not_ want to even begin to attempt to be in charge of a large group of Shadowhunters. Nor would they want him to be. Any attempts he made were going to be a constant uphill battle that Magnus very much wanted to avoid. Not to mention, he was already the High Warlock of Brooklyn. He had plenty of warlocks to take care of, and a good chunk of the Downworld that seemed intent on looking up to him for advice because he was the Alpha Sentinel of New York.

But even as Magnus had those thoughts, other ones slipped in.

As the cohead of the Institute he’d be in the unique position of being able to help affect change on the Shadow World from the _inside_. He’d be right there at Alec’s side with someone who was trained in all the Clave laws, in how to run an Institute, and in what rules they could and couldn’t get around. If they put their heads together they might be able to come up with so many ways to make life for Downworlders easier. To help push the kind of peace that they all deserved.

From what Magnus knew of Alec he was just the type of person to do this with, too. He was already working hard to bring about change. With him working the Shadowhunter side and Magnus working the Downworld side, by bringing those two together into one space what kind of things would they be able to do? What kind of peace might they bring?

When he blinked his eyes clear once more, he found Alec watching him with a soft smile and warm eyes. “You’re just realizing it, aren’t you?”

“Realizing what?” Magnus asked. He felt his own lips starting to curve a little in response to Alec’s clear happiness.

“Just how well this could work. All the things that we might be able to accomplish, you and I. For my people and for yours.”

So it would seem Alec had been on the same wavelength as him. At the moment the two of them were some of the biggest names in Shadow World politics for New York. To bring them together and have them both working for the same cause could do so much good for everyone.

The smile that Magnus wore grew a little brighter. “I don’t think they’re ready for us, _sayang_.”

Laughing, Alec shook his head. “Probably not. But we’ll get them there. Together.”

“Together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do have more in the works, but originally this was where I was going to end the story. If people like, I might keep it going, but it might take me a bit to finish the second half so I decided to put it as a sequel to this. I hope you've enjoyed this so far, and thank you so much for your kind words and kudos!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading - be sure to let me know what you think!
> 
> And if you'd like to join a Multifandom server on Discord, come hang out [HERE](https://discord.gg/82pvdE39fD) with me and a group of amazing people!
> 
> Also, though I'm rarely on there, you can find me on tumblr [HERE](https://to-the-stars-writing.tumblr.com/) and say hi, send an ask, or even leave me a prompt if you'd like :)


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